


An Hour by the Lake

by oldenuf2nb



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Slash, The Quidditch Pitch: The Changing Room
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-05-09
Updated: 2007-05-09
Packaged: 2018-10-27 16:20:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10812567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oldenuf2nb/pseuds/oldenuf2nb
Summary: Harry receives a note in Potions that changes his whole day...





	An Hour by the Lake

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

_“Two o’clock.  Under the willow.”_

Harry Potter grinned slightly as he read the parchment, then slipped it into his pocket before Snape could see it and confiscate it.  It was fairly innocuous, honestly, but the prick would no doubt try to make something out of it.  

 

_“A rendezvous, Potter?  How…unexpected.  Who could possibly have such appalling taste?”_

No, he didn’t need that. Not with this to look forward to.  The grin spread until his green eyes lit with it.  His cheek dimpled, right next to his full lips.  Yeah, brilliant.

 

Lunch flew by with the usual high-jinks at the Gryffindor table.  A dinner roll hit Neville in the temple, launched by Seamus, intended for Dean.  Ron laughed uproariously as it settled, incongruously, perched on the top of Parvati’s head. Hermione huffed at their ‘juvenile behavior’, and Ginny sent Harry heated looks from across the expanse of scarred oak.  He smiled at her.  A secret little smile that seemed both distracted and sensuous and she sighed.  

 

After lunch, came Transfiguration, and it was all Harry could do to concentrate. When class was over, he shoved everything into his knapsack, and ran all of the way to the Gryffindor common room and up the steps to the dorm to dump it before sprinting back out again.

 

The day was warm, and beautiful, and by the time he reached the edge of the lake and the gently swaying fronds of the willow tree, he was out of breath and had a stitch in his side. He paused, bent double, hands on his knees when he was tackled from behind, surprisingly strong arms catching him around the ribs and landing him, face down, under the concealing branches of the tree.

 

“What…?” he managed to gasp out before he was rolled to his back and a body was flattening over the top of his.  He had a flash of pale freckled skin and fiery red hair before his mouth was taken in a kiss that was more force than finesse.  Heat hit him instantly, and he was kissing back, trying to breathe through his nose, hands coming up to roughly cup the face, tongue dueling with the one that was already in his mouth.  A hand sank into his unruly hair and clenched, pulling his head back and to the side, and a warm, wet mouth descended on his pale throat to bite and suck.  Another hand undid his tie and made short work of the buttons down his chest.  It insinuated itself under the fabric and caressed smooth skin.  Fingers unerringly found and plucked at sensitive nipples, and Harry arched and hissed, his heels scrabbling on the leaf-strewn ground.  The hot mouth moved down his chest as the hand slid lower still, tore at the belt, the zipper of his gray wool school slacks falling open under the onslaught.  Harry cried out unintelligibly as the hand snaked through the opening in his dark blue boxer shorts and withdrew his cock, already hard.

 

“Oh god,” Harry groaned as the hand firmly, knowledgably stroked the smooth sensitive skin over the core of bobbing, flexible hardness.  

 

“Yes,” a soft voice hissed from near his navel.  “Feels good, does it?  Feels good?”

 

“Bloody brilliant,” Harry managed, then arched with a sort of keening moan as he was engulfed in heat and wet suction.  His feet finally found purchase on the ground to allow him to thrust up with his hips as a scalding mouth concentrated on the swollen, mushroom head and a hand moved with rough precision up and down the straining length.  “Fuck!” he shouted, then remembered that they were outside, that someone else might hear, and jammed his fist into his mouth, his eyes clenching shut as the speed being used on him increased, and the air seemed to freeze in his lungs.  His hands found the full red hair near his groin and clutched, convulsively.  And then he was thrashing, his teeth sunk in his knuckles, as the pressure in his balls exploded.  White lights flashed behind closed eyelids, and he was coming, his head lifting to pound back into the soft earth, teeth clenching, thighs quivering.  “Shit!” he cried, the sound muffled by his hand, as he spilled himself into that warm, wonderful, waiting mouth. 

 

Harry collapsed boneless, arms flopping to lie above his head, palms up near his ears as he fought for breath.  He felt that gifted mouth press a kiss just above his black pubic hair, then another on his navel before a warm, wonderful body snuggled against his side and a pale, freckled hand rested on his flat stomach.  

 

“Good?” the voice asked softly near his ear. 

 

“Oh, yeah,” Harry answered shakily, his hand coming up to rest on the head on his shoulder, his fingers threading through soft, heavy red hair. “Amazing.”

 

Silence settled around them as Harry’s breathing eased and his heartrate returned to normal.  At length, he felt able to talk. 

 

“Any trouble getting away?” he asked softly. 

 

“Nah,” came the answer as the mouth was turned into his neck. “She’s studying for NEWT’s.  You know.  You?”

 

“No.  I didn’t even see her.  I was in too big a hurry.”  

 

The head lifted from his shoulder, and Harry looked up into eyes as blue as the sky above the lake. 

 

“I love you,” the voice was soft, but the words were so earnest, heartfelt, that Harry felt tears sting at the corner of his eyes. 

 

“I love you, too, Ron,” he whispered, reaching up to touch a flushed cheek.  Ron Weasley’s smile in response spread slowly.  He reached up and covered Harry’s hand with his own, then with a twinkle in those blue eyes, drew it away and down to press over the still rampant erection in his own trousers. 

 

“Good.  It’s my turn.” 

 

Harry laughed in delight and shoved him over on his back, his lips finding Ron’s unerringly in the filtered afternoon light.


End file.
